


this is not puppy love

by incendia



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, because scott and isaac are actual puppies in human form, pure and simple fluff, starring everyone else being 12345 per cent done with them, will make your tooth ache fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-13
Updated: 2013-08-13
Packaged: 2017-12-23 09:24:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/924679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/incendia/pseuds/incendia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>except it is, it completely and absolutely is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	this is not puppy love

“Oh, _dudes…_ Really, _really_? You really got to do that here?” Stiles’ face scrunches, nose wrinkling and brow furrowing, with a look of sheer nausea. 

“You two are disgusting. _Disgustingly_ adorable,” he mutters, glancing away with an exasperated sigh from the two _real life puppies_ curled up on the couch cuddling and nuzzling at each other like they’re completely unaware of the fact that they’re in present company. 

Scott lets out a muffled snicker as Isaac drags the tip of his nose up along his throat and then his jaw, tightening his grip in Scott’s shirt, fingers curled loosely around the fabric.

“Why do you even bother inviting us over if you know we’re just going to end up like this anyway?” 

“Because. _Because_ I refuse to marathon the whole of Lord of the Rings alone and look like a complete loser, not that I haven’t done that before and still enjoyed it immensely without watching my two best friends mauling each other like overly-affectionate chihuahuas.” 

“Well, Stiles,” Isaac murmurs, mouthing at Scott’s neck, all but straddling his lap, “You could always _leave_.” Stiles pauses, as if to consider it for a moment and then snorts, folding his arms across his chest.

“Yeah _no,_ considering this is my house and all. We’re only halfway through The Two Towers and I’ll be damned if I let a couple of enthusiastically snuggling Labradors get rid of me before they even _get_ to Mordor.”

Scott shrugs, “Suit yourself,” and then goes back to carding his fingers through Isaac’s curls before cupping his hand at the back of Isaac’s head and pressing a lengthy open-mouthed kiss against his lips.

Isaac returns it with a smile, licking into Scott’s mouth and drawing a soft moan from Scott in the back of his throat, whose fingertips stroke up from the base of Isaac’s spine to tangle in the hair at his neck.

Grabbing the closest pillow and pressing it to his face to stifle his own scream, Stiles rolls his eyes so hard it hurts and then tosses the pillow directly at their kissing faces. Scott doesn’t even break the kiss when his hand shoots out to grab it and send it flying back, a sound of encouragement slipping from him as he tips his head back to let Isaac suck teasingly against his bottom lip. 

“I am _never_ inviting you two over again,” Stiles seethes. “Best friends? What best friends, all I see is a miniature poodle and a Yorkshire terrier going at it in the puppy equivalent of making out.”

Isaac shifts to slide his leg over Scott’s other hip, long fingers moving to frame Scott’s face and everything about Stiles, Lord of the Rings and the background threats Stiles is yelling about Merry and Pippin being his new best friends are lost as Scott strokes his thumb across Isaac’s lips and nuzzles at his nose with their foreheads pressed together.

 

. . . . . 

 

The door opens with the sound of light chattering as Scott and Lydia step in through the doorway hauling with them an entire’s day worth of shopping.

Scott doesn’t take so much as three steps over the threshold when a blur of golden curls comes flying towards him, knocking the bags out of his hands and pressing its nose into his neck.

“Hey, Isaac,” He murmurs in an amused tone, sinking his fingers into Isaac’s hair and resting his chin lightly against his shoulder, “I’m guessing you missed me while I was gone.” 

“Don’t be so dramatic,” Lydia interjects before Isaac can speak, “We were only gone for four hours, five hours tops.” A delicate eye roll, long dark lashes fluttering as she props her manicured fingers on her petite waist, the rest of the shopping bags dangling from her wrists. 

“Stiles was right, you two are _sickening._ ”

Isaac sniffs, pressing himself closer to Scott and wrapping his arms tighter around his shoulders. 

“Just ignore her,” Scott murmurs, turning his head to press his lips against Isaac’s neck. “She’s just saying mean things.”

Lydia narrows her eyes incredulously, releasing a huff of air and flicking a lock of hair out of her face. “Well,” she drawled slowly, “Seeing as you two lovebirds aren’t going to help me carry these up to Scott’s room I’m going to go ahead and do it myself.” 

Just to make a point, she sauntered forwards to gather the rest of the bags Scott had let go of, hauling them into her arms with a sharp glance backwards. 

“If you two are still clinging to each other like long-lost lovers out of a Nicholas Sparks movie when I get back I’m going to personally separate you for the rest of the night. "

“... _No,_ ” Isaac mutters fiercely, stiffening against Scott and hunching in his broad shoulders around him. Scott inhales, burying his face in Isaac’s shoulder, breathing in the scent of Isaac and the longing clinging to his skin that makes him want to throw him against the nearest wall and kiss him until he’s breathless.

“ _Sweetie,_ you don’t want to try me,” Lydia replied, perfectly shaped eyebrows lifting. “We only just started with Scott’s summer wardrobe and we’ve still got all three other seasons to go. Not everyone can have such impeccable taste in fashion.”

Scott let out a chuckle, the sound reverberating through Isaac’s chest too as he sunk his chin lower against Isaac’s shoulder and gave Lydia a pleading look.

“Can Isaac come next time, too? He _does_ have a nice wardrobe.” 

“Oh, I wasn’t talking about _him_.” Lydia cocked her head a little, gazing at the boys with a clinical expression, considering the pout on Scott’s face and the back of Isaac’s curly hair. “But… _fine._ Fine. I could use some help picking out a few good winter coats and scarves for you and since Isaac doesn’t seem to be entirely lacking in that area…”

“Sweet! You hear that, Isaac? You can come with us next time!”

Isaac nods, relaxing a little in Scott’s embrace. It’s only until after Lydia has given them another eye roll and disappeared upstairs to deposit the shopping bags that Isaac loosens his grip and pulls back, searching Scott’s eyes with a lost look.

“‘Missed you.”

“I missed you, too,” Scott whispers, leaning in and brushing a soft kiss against his lips. “Always.” 

 

. . . . .

 

"Alright, Boys," Peter says spontaneously one day while Scott and Isaac are lounging on the couch at the Hale lair. Cora and Derek have gone out to run errands, which surprisingly involve things as boring and mediocre as checking their mail and buying groceries. Meanwhile, Scott and Isaac have commandeered the comfortable, battered old couch in front of the Hales' flat screen against the wall waiting for the Hale siblings to return, hopefully with food, pizza, a rented movie or two, and more food.

"It doesn't appear as if my darling niece and nephew are going to be back for a while," he murmurs slyly, rubbing his hands together with a glint in his eyes that make Scott and Isaac share a mutual look of suspicion.

"Relax, kiddies, it's nothing bad, I promise. Seeing as Derek's out, consider me the temporary alpha-in-charge."

Isaac opens his mouth as if to pipe up and remind him that neither he nor Derek are actually his alpha but Peter cuts him off with a raised finger. "Ah, ah, ah, Isaac. Scotty here might be your alpha but you've both still got a lot to learn when it comes to being fully-fledged wolves who are going to be able to stand on your own two feet without Daddy's help."

Scott furrows his brow, snorting incredulously. "You being _Daddy_ in this situation?" Peter shrugs, entirely nonchalant.

"Fine.  _Uncle_ Peter, then. Now c'mon, up and at 'em," the elder werewolf says, gesturing for them to get up off their asses and _move._  Scott glances over at Isaac before giving a sigh and shrugging his shoulders in surrender.

"Alright, but no funny business," Scott mutters, folding his arms swiftly across his chest. 

Raising his hands, palms flat, Peter bows his head a little, "I  _promise._ Now do you want to get down to business or shall we stand around talking like a couple of girls a little longer?"

Isaac bristles, stepping forwards with a defiant lift of his chin. "What'd you have in mind?"

And this is how Scott finds himself sprawled on the ground seconds later, Isaac peering down at him with a look of pure innocence. "Good, good Isaac!" Peter crows, "Scott ––  _concentrate._ That was almost pathetic."

A low growl rumbles in the pit of Scott's throat as he staggers to his feet, tossing a glare in Isaac's direction who has a very smug smirk plastered across his face now. "I didn't even know we were  _starting_ yet." 

"The element of surprise, Scott,  _learn it_ \- " Peter doesn't get another word in edgewise before Scott's launching himself at Isaac, tackling him by the waist to the ground, his body slamming down on top of his as they both land against the concrete.

"See? _'Attaboy._ " Isaac and Scott are too busy struggling to keep the blushes off their faces upon realising what kind of position Scott's surprise tackle had landed them in. Scott's leg is pressed up between Isaac's thighs and Scott's body is aligned almost perfectly with their chests crushed together under Scott's weight. Scott splutters out a cough before scrambling to his feet, darting back several feet away.

" _Again,_ " Peter says. Isaac charges first this time, fist surging towards Scott's face, an attack that he parries easily, lifting his own elbow to block the hit before sending his own closed fist towards Isaac's stomach. Isaac ducks, dodging behind Scott and shoving at his back to send him stumbling forwards a few steps. Scott huffs, straightening up and spinning on his heel to throw a punch at Isaac who bears down on him, catching at his wrist and twisting it up against his chest. Neither of them miss the way Isaac's fingertips brush against the inside of Scott's wrist. 

"C'mon, Scotty, you're  _faster_ than he is. Use that to your advantage. Use his height  _against_ him." Scott kicks out at Isaac's ankle, snatching his hand back when Isaac staggers, before sending a spinning kick out to his side. The other wolf collapses back before springing back to his feet, using the momentum to propel himself forwards and tackling Scott to the ground. Scott is mid-snarl when Isaac tightens his grip, dipping down to nuzzle into his neck with a low chuckle, and he's so thrown off-guard that he pauses in the midst of throwing Isaac from where he's sprawled on top of him.

A surprised laugh bursts out of his lips, reaching up to tangle his fingers in Isaac's curls as he flips them around, straddling Isaac's upper chest and flinging his arms back by his wrists. Isaac relents, relinquishing control before stealing it back playfully as he curls his legs around Scott's and switches their positions once again, growling playfully as he launches forwards as if to bite at Scott's throat.

Peter likes to think he is a patient man. Peter likes to think he'd make a decent alpha if given the chance. Peter is also completely done.

" _Boys,_ when I said ' _training_ _'_  I assure you I didn't mean watching you two roll around like playfighting puppies," he drawls in a deadpan, utterly unamused. Scott ignores him as he threads his fingers through Isaac's and in a matter of seconds they actually  _are_ playfighting, rolling back and forth as they tease and taunt, taking turns at playing the aggressor and the defendor before sneakily seizing control back from the other.

"This is nauseating. I'm going to catch  _cooties_ just watching this." Peter's face wrinkles in a very impressive look of disgust, turning away with a world-weary sigh away from the wrestling teenagers.

It's only when Cora and Derek return an hour later that they stop and Peter's there to greet them, throwing open the door with a growl. "Never,  _ever,_ leave me alone with these two ever again. It's worse than watching baby animals trying to take their first steps."

Cora and Derek simultaneously raise a single eyebrow at him before Peter rolls his eyes in the trademark Hale eye roll and disappears out the door. 

Cora strolls into the kitchen to dump their groceries on the counter before sauntering back into the living room where Isaac and Scott are still curled up in some disturbing formation on the ground, nuzzling and tangled up in each other's limbs.

" _Hey,_ _losers,_ " she mutters, brandishing a bottle of water and spraying at them with ruthless accuracy. "If you're not going to stop acting like lovesick idiots get the hell out of our apartment, we're trying to have a _Die Hard_ marathon here."

Spluttering through the shower of water now soaking through their clothes and into their hair, Scott and Isaac manage to detangle themselves, lying back against the floor with matching grins of sheer mischief. 

"Stiles says not to let these two sit together if we're watching a movie," Derek's monotone comes sailing over from the couch. "Preferably in different rooms altogether. But like Cora said, if you two are going to ruin our movie night, I'm kicking you out."

Isaac tilts his head at Scott as Scott shifts to do the same. Shrugging, they stumble up to their feet and race for the door, identical expressions of glee on their face that both Hale siblings decide they're going to need a whole night to recover from.

It takes all of a second for the door to slam shut before Isaac's hands are gliding up beneath Scott's shirt that's been clinging to his skin since Cora attacked them, revealing the perfect ouline of his muscles that Isaac's been itching to get his hands on since. 

At the first sound of a moan, Cora grunts, narrowing her eyes at the door before she glances back at Derek and they both sigh with a mutually frustrated Hale sigh. Grabbing the remote, Cora flings it hard enough at the door to dent the metal.

"Our doorway is not your freaking makeout spot, Jesus _Christ_. For the last. Time. –– _Go home,_ morons _._ "

 

. . . . .

 

It's not the first time and it's certainly not the last time that Melissa's going to be standing in front of a pile of laundry wondering when the hell it became so hard to distinguish whose clothes were whose. In a household of two boys she's become very used to mismatched socks and shirts and sweaters being shared now and then but try as she might she can't seem to remember anymore when the last time was she saw Scott wearing this red shirt because wasn't Isaac wearing that on Monday? And this blue sweater Scott had on a couple of nights ago as pyjamas but she's almost one hundred per cent sure it'd been Isaac's first.

Tossing the two things back onto the pile, she peeks out the door and opens her mouth to holler for them. " _Boys!_ Get your asses down here!"

"Coming, Mom!" "Coming, Mrs. McCall!" The two returning shouts come from upstairs in Scott's room and Melissa lets an amused smile dart across her face.

"How many times do I have to tell you to call me Melissa, Isaac!"

"Sorry, Mo - Melissa!"

Now doesn't that just send the warm and fuzzies fluttering through her heart.

Isaac and Scott appear in the doorway a few moments later, Isaac with a distinctly flushed look about him but looking otherwise completely normal. Melissa glances up from the piles of clothes around her, strewn across the couches and gives them both a pointed look.

"Okay, boys, you're going to need to help me out here because I've spent the last few hours trying to figure whose stuff is whose and I've never felt more confused in my life other than the time I tried to teach Scott tenth grade chemistry."

Scott raises his eyebrows, stepping into the mess of clothes and bending down to pick up a black t-shirt, staring at it with an odd look before cocking his head at it curiously. "Umm... this is definitely mine, right, Isaac?" Isaac peers over his shoulder at the shirt before giving him a small frown, stretching his hand out to inspect a green sweater.

Scott steps over and holds the sweater up against Isaac's chest, peering at it in confusion. "Yeah... that'd definitely fit you. But... I've had that since I was fourteen or something."

"Hey, isn't that shirt you're wearing right now mine?" Lifting his head with an even more bewildered look, Scott tips his head down to stare at the striped navy shirt he has on. Isaac pauses, before leaning over to sniff at the juncture of Scott's shoulder and neck. His nose grazes along the exposed collarbone peaking out beneath the edge of Scott's shirt, inhaling his scent with a look of hunger that's for Scott's eyes only as he steals a glimpse up at Scott from beneath his eyelashes. Satisfied by the flushed cheeks and startled surprise on Scott's face, he leans back out of Scott's space with a sly smirk. 

"Yep. _Definitely_ mine," Isaac drawls in a low voice. And dammit, Scott  _knows_ that voice, knows the level of possessiveness lingering on his lips and the taste of it on his tongue and he wants to turn and kiss the arrogance right off his face and he  _would_ if his mom weren't sitting right there watching them both.

"I, uh... I sort of just picked up whatever was closest this morning," Scott replies with only the slightest stutter, raising a hand to scratch at the back of his neck.

"I think it looks good on you, Scott," Melissa interjects, a knowing smile on her lips.

"Um... thanks? You can... you can just leave the laundry if you want, we can always do it later. Figure out whose stuff is whose on our own..."

Beaming up at them, Melissa waves them off with a dismissive flick of her fingers. "No, no, it's fine. I'll just sort them all into one giant pile. You're never going to be separate them all this rate." She clears her throat, crossing one leg over another before pulling the empty laundry basket closer to her.

"Lights out before eleven and if I hear  _anything_ \- anything at all, I swear to God, boys - I am banning you from sleeping in the same room for a week."

"But -- _mo_ \- "

"No but's or if's. Now get outta' here before I change my mind." Isaac goes first, turning just in time to conceal his smile before Scott turns with a pout to trail after him. Shaking her head, Melissa watches her boys make their way back upstairs.

...They do say ignorance is bliss. If she turns the volume up a little higher on the TV ––  _just_ for tonight –– well, no one's going to know but her.

 

. . . . .

 

The accident happens sometime after school during a practice session just as Coach is gearing them up for the finals, and it happens suddenly, without warning and is like a sucker punch to the freaking chest. To  _Scott's_ chest, even though he's not the one who's bowled over and crushed beneath the weight of arguably the strongest player on the team.

Isaac had been running, in motion with the grace of a dancer and the speed of a professional athlete when a defender playing on the other side surged in front of him, sticks clashing with a ringing sound as he rammed his shoulder up against him and there's a sickening crunch of bone as Isaac falls.

Scott's been sitting on the sidelines, not because he's warming benches but Coach had taken him out to give the players a chance to score without him in the goal and his heart all but leaps into his throat, clawing its way up to his mouth and hammering so loudly he's sure his eardrums are going to burst. He's on his feet before he can even register it properly in his mind, crashing into bodies around him as he races forwards until he's dropping to his knees beside Isaac, clutching at his arm, his shoulder,  _anything._

" _Isaac!_ " Isaac's eyes are shut, his head pressed back into the grass, his helmet falling back where it's been thrown off.

"Isaac, oh my god, oh my  _god,_ " Scott mutters, his fingers finding their way to the sides of Isaac's face, pulse still thrumming inside his skull with deafening noise.

"Alright, alright, back it up, people! Give the kid some spa --  _McCall!_ McCall, what the hell are you doing on the field?" That's Coach's voice, some part of his mind whispers, but Scott can't even focus long enough to listen, just keeps on clutching at Isaac's face with trembling fingers.

"Show's over, kids! Get to the changerooms and clean up your stinking asses before I asphyxiate on your collective body odours!" Coach shrieks, and Scott's thankful, at least, for the crowd of people beginning to recede around them.

" _Isaac,_ " Scott whispers in a ragged voice, tugging Isaac's broad frame into his arms with a broken noise.

"Kid, kid,  _relax._ Jesus, Mary and Joseph he's not  _dying._ It's probably just a minor concussion, nothing serious," Finstock murmurs, eyebrows shooting up at Scott's reaction as he crouches down beside Isaac to assess the full extent of the damage.

"...Yep. He's probably going to need to be hospitalised for a while. Listen, I'm going to go call an ambulance, you... you stay here with Isaac and make sure no one does anything stupid like try to move him, alright? –– Good. Good, I'll be right back." He gives a definitive nod before straightening back up and barking out some orders to find him a goddamn phone so he can call said ambulance.

Scott deflates as soon as the Coach's back is turned, slumping around Isaac, shaking fingertips brushing the top of Isaac's curls back from his forehead, matted with sweat and exertion. "Oh my  _god._ " The sudden appearance of another person beside him makes him jump, still on edge from Finstock's screaming.

"Sorry, Scott!" Oh. It's Allison.

"What are - what are you doing here, Allison?" Scott blinks over at her through slightly bleary eyes, tightening his grip around Isaac as though scared she'll try to take him away from him or drag  _him_ away from Isaac. 

"I had a study session with Lydia in the library and I was just stopping by to see if you guys were done with practice already and - he's going to be okay, right? I mean he's a werewolf. You guys heal super fast."

Scott opens his mouth to snap back a reply before he shuts it with a sharp click.

"...Scott you can't honestly tell me you forgot about your super werewolf healing abilities, right?"

"What? ––  _No._ I was just... I was just  _worried,_ okay? It's not like this has ever happened before, I wasn't even - "

"Scott...?" Isaac's voice pierces through his rambling, weak and soft but still there as Scott's head snaps back down towards him.

"Oh my god, I thought you were  _dead,_ " Scott gasps before cutting himself off. "––  _Shut up,_ Allison!" A muffled giggle comes from her direction, dimples appearing on her face as she jostles him in the shoulder.

" _Liar._ You totally thought he was going to die."

"What? Why... why would I be dying?" Isaac mutters, brow creasing as he begins to sit up. Scott panics, latching onto him firmer and dragging him up into a fierce hug, arms wrapped tight around Isaac's chest. The broken bone beneath his skin is already beginning to repair itself. But that still doesn't stop Scott's heart from racing a mile a minute like he's ran a goddamn non-stop marathon.

"Just... shut up and let me hug you, okay?" Scott buries his face deeper in his shoulder to hide the rising blush, fingers digging into the curls at the base of his skull and drinking him in like he was legimitately afraid he was just about to lose him.

Allison stands back up with a light chuckle, brushing off her skirt and giving them both a look of amusement, a single arched brow cocked high on her face. "Well, you girls have fun. I'm going to go find Lydia. You'll be lucky if the whole school doesn't know about this adorable little moment by tomorrow."

Scott just sighs, clutching Isaac tighter and ignoring the sound of Allison's teasing voice. "'Don't care," he mutters.

"Aw," Isaac murmurs in tone that isn't any less teasing or comforting than Allison's. "C'mon, Argent. Take pity on the poor guy. He did just go through almost losing the love of his life. Must be pretty stressful." That sends Scott reeling backwards, releasing Isaac with a dramatic huff.

"Fine...  _Fine._ If you two are going to  _mock_ me about this then I'm going to -" Isaac silences him with a quick brush of his lips against his pout, light and tender and far gentler than the sarcastic playfulness of his words.

"Don't be mad," he murmurs softly, gaze softening as he blinks down at Scott, long lashes curving against his cheek in a way that is just totally  _not fair,_ Scott decides.

"I'd have been the exact same if it were you," Isaac confesses, sifting his fingers through the back of Scott's hair with an affectionate smile reserved just for him.

With a loud clearing of her throat, Allison nudges at the side of Isaac's thigh with the tip of her boot. "Yeah, I'm seriously going to go now. You two might want to figure out an explanation before Coach gets back and finds Isaac perfectly healed and making out with the co-captain in the middle of the lacrosse field."

This time it's Isaac's turn to blush, the flush of pink across his high cheekbones sending a flood of warmth through Scott as he laughs.

"I think it's a fair reward for making it through his life-or-death situation, don't you think?"

"Yeah, if you're the starring characters in the Titanic, maybe." Allison rolls her eyes, waving at them both before turning on her heel. " _Bye, Boys._ Oh, and Isaac? You might want to check that's not a lacrosse stick in your pocket before Coach comes back to find you." 

  

. . . . .

 

Friday is _always_ family movie night. 'Family', if you take it to mean a lose conglomeration of friends, allies, misfits and werewolves. It was an idea Stiles had come up with one afternoon after exhausting the rest of his list of 'Team Bonding Exercises That Will Not Result In Derek Trying To Kill Anyone This Time'. Movies seemed like an innocent enough idea, until it came down to selecting which genre, what movie, what was suitable to show to a bunch of impressionable teenagers... well, suffice to say, after being the one responsible for a particularly terrifying night of horror films and psychological thrillers Peter had been banned from choosing Friday Night Movies at all.

This week's choices had been Scott's, a collective incentive the rest had agreed that would prevent Scott and Isaac from going at it in their sickeningly cute snuggle habits whilst seated amongst the rest of them in various states of comfort in front of the Hale's 42" flat screen TV.  _The Dark Knight_ followed by its sequel and with ample bowls of popcorn and snacks spread out between them, it looked like they were in for a night of decent moviewatching.

Stiles was in the centre of the couch, taking up the entire arm rest with a bowl of curly fries he'd brought especially for the night; Cora, on the right, a bowl of popcorn in her lap just for her due to her notorious popcorn Nazi habits; Lydia and Allison, on the left, curled up beneath the blanket tossed over all three of them with the smaller girl leaning against Stiles' side. Derek had taken up the leather armchair beisde her; Peter on the other armchair on Cora's side and Isaac and Scott were on the ground beneath a pile of blankets bundled so high only their faces were visible.

Somewhere between an argument over which of the franchised films was better, whether Heath Ledger was hotter than Christian Bale, and whether or not Derek would have made a better Dark Knight than Bale himself, the opening credits of the movie rolled onto the screen and a collective hush fell over them.

Isaac nudges at Scott's shoulder to catch his attention, offering up the bowl of popcorn beside him which Scott grins at and reaches his hand out to take a handful. Isaac's attention returns to the screen and it's completely coincindental when their fingers brush in an utterly cliched way that has them both glancing the other way with nervous chuckles.

Stiles shoots them a dirty look and leans over to _shush_ them before any more funny business can happen and Scott glances up to beam at him in reassurance. Stiles had, after all, made them both promise not to do anything during the movies and ruin it for the rest of them like they usually always ended up doing.

They'd both agreed, under the impression that it wouldn't be  _that_ hard to keep their hands off each other for a whole... five or so hours.

How very, _very_ wrong they both were.

Ten minutes in and already Isaac is itching to reach over and slip his fingers through Scott's, or press his lips to Scott's jaw, or run his fingertips up his spine, or do unspeakable things to him while fervently wishing they didn't have an audience behind them watching a film playing across the screen above them.

"Scott," he whispers, too soft for human ears to hear but just loud enough for Scott's. " _Scott._ "

"...Yeah Isaac?" Scott replies without tearing his gaze away from the screen. Isaac frowns slightly at him, disappointed that his voice alone has dragged Scott's attention away from Christian Bale despite his impressive Batman costume.

He bides his time however, falling silent until the first loud, action-packed car chase explodes across the screen. Isaac slides closer, almost imperceptibly closer, until his lips are mere inches from Scott's ear.

"I want to kiss you really bad," he breathes. He feels Scott stiffen beside him, just a small twitch in his shoulders but it's still a reaction.

"Do you think I could get away with kissing you right here and now?" Isaac murmurs, testing the waters as his hand reaches out to flatten across Scott's chest from where it's wrapped around his shoulders.

"I don't think you know how tempted I am. I could just..." His voice trails off, trailing his fingertips down Scott's chest and the firm ridges of his abs that he can feel tighten when his fingers move over them. "You want to know how much I -"

" _FOR THE LOVE OF GOD I DON'T NEED WEREWOLF HEARING TO KNOW WHAT YOU'RE SAYING!"_ They both jump about three feet in the air despite both lying propped up on their backs, the life essentially scared out of them by the near sound-barrier-breaking pitch of Stiles' voice.

"Yes, as fascinating as it is to hear about how active the libidos of teenage hormones can  _really_ be, I believe we were in the middle of watching a movie, boys. You might want to save the inappropriate touching for later," Peter drawls as if he weren't further adding to their humiliation and desire to dig themselves into a two-person shaped hold and bury themselves in it.

"Seriously, you two really can't keep your hands off each other for  _one_ hour?!" Lydia demands.

Cora snorts, tossing a few pieces of popcorn at the tops of their heads. " _Duh,_ of course they can't. They're hormonally challenged teenage boys with werewolf senses and recovery times."

"I am  _not_ letting you two ruin another movie. Especially not the freaking  _Dark Knight_ series - "

"Ugh, I can't believe you were going to  _feel him up_ right here in front of all of us - "

" _DO YOU TWO HAVE NO SELF-CONTROL? I MEAN_ DAMN."

"Give them a break, they're exploring their sexualities through healthy means, I don't see why - "

"Shut up. ––  _Shut up._ All of you." Derek's voice cuts through the cacophony of protests, leaving only deafening silence in its wake.

"... Jeez, Derek. Who knew you had such a hard-on for Christian Bale? Admit it, it's because you'd  _kill_ to get a chance to get in that Batsuit wouldn't you? 'Cause you'd make a pretty damn good - "

"Shhhh!  _Stiles._ " 

"What?! Why the hell are you shushing  _m_ \- oh.  _Oh._ "

The cause for Stiles' astonishment is the sight of two sleeping werewolves curled up beside each other fast asleep, tangled up in the blankets swaddled around them like two adorable, little,  _puppies._

"As much as it pains me to say it, that is the freaking cutest thing I've ever seen," Cora mutters, narrowing her eyes at them, still attempting to decide what level of offensive their cuteness is on her Hale Scale of Annoyance.

"Oh my god, someone. Camera. Now," Lydia snaps, clicking her fingers and turning her hand palm up and gesturing for someone to offer up their phone.

"Already beat you to it, Lydia," Stile sings, whipping out his phone to snap a quick shot of the two for future blackmail evidence (or you know, scrapbooking, Christmas cards, anniverary slideshows...).

"Guys, let's just shush and finish the rest of the movie. They must be super tired if they fell asleep before they even got to make out," Allison says, dimpled smile bright and warm with fondness on her features.

She's right, of course. In the midst of the others' arguing, Scott and Isaac had glanced at each other with exasperated looks of mischief and laughter, threaded their fingers together and drifted off to sleep. Isaac had turned on his side to curl around Scott, his arm flung around his waist while Scott's hand rested on his forearm. Not a single one of them could deny the flicker of warmth in them to see the two asleep as they were, not even the Hales whose hearts were cold and hardened as ice.

Allison had only been wrong about one thing – they had kissed after all. A sleepy, goodnight kiss, lazy and soft and the kind that sent tingles racing down to their toes as their eyes closed and they fell asleep with the steady rhythm of each other's heartbeats.

"Jesus, who needs a  _movie_ when you've got the cutest freaking fairytale couple right in front of you," Stiles mumbles before the group collectively silences him as they continue to gaze down at their sleeping puppies.

 

. . . . .

 

"Scott...?" Isaac's question goes unheard as Scott opens the cage of a particularly noisy cat, reaching in to stroke his fingertips down its back to soothe it with a soft shushing noise. Isaac tries again, and Scott glances up this time.

"Hm?" Scott turns back to lift the cat out of its cage, bringing it up to his face to smile at it and check its tag for its name.

"Do you... do you really think we're as annoying as everyone else says we are?"

" _Hi, Rose,_ " Scott murmurs softly, drawing his fingertip down the length of the cat's nose.

"... _Scott._ " There's the slightest bit of impatience in Isaac's voice now, a seriousness to his features that makes Scott pause and cradle the cat in his arms before fixing Isaac with his full attention.

"Huh? Oh, sorry. Yeah, what'd you say?" 

"Do you really think we're as annoying as everyone else is always saying we are?"

"...What do you mean?" His brow furrows, perplexed by the strange question that's arisen seemingly from nowhere.

"...You know. Like... when we do stuff in front of them and they get annoyed with us." 

" _Stuff?_ What stuff?" Isaac sighs, flicking his gaze away and crossing his arms over his chest.

"Kissing and stuff. Cuddling. Couple things."

Oh. So that's what this is about. Scott shrugs, lifting Rose back up to stroke at the spot between her ears, beaming at her when she beings purring in satisfaction.

"Scott, you aren't even paying attention to me."

"I am, I swear. She's just so  _cute,_ I want to adopt her and take her home forever."

"...You say that about  _all_ the strays in here." Scott raises an eyebrow at him in a challenge, smirk toying at his lips.

"Yeah? Well so do you."

"Answer the question."

"What question?"

"The one about whether or not you think we're annoying."

"I don't think we're annoying."

"But everyone else  _does!_ " Isaac bursts out in frustration, his arms falling to his sides as he strides across the room with a harsh exhale.

"Who cares what everyone else thinks?" Scott says lightly with a small shrug, hugging the cat closer to his chest when Isaac turns around with wide eyes.

" _I_ do. I care."

"You know they only get annoyed because they're know they're going to end up old and lonely with a house full of cats, right?"

"Says the one  _holding_ a cat," Isaac points out.

"...Good point. But Rose would be my best friend if she wanted to, wouldn't you, Rose?" Scott smiles down at her, lifting her up to press a light kiss to the tip of her nose.

"You shouldn't kiss the strays like that, Scott," Isaac bites out, narrowing his gaze at them.

"Why, are you jealous?"

"--  _No._ Deaton says they could still have infections."

"Isaac, I'm a  _werewolf._ I can't _get_ infections."

" _Still._ " With a soft sigh, Scott sets Rose down on the examination table where she curls up, but not before giving them a look as if to let the know she's still watching them. Scott crosses the room swiftly to stand before Isaac, a smile tugging at his lips in spite of himself and the irritation he knows he'll get in return for his mischief. 

"I don't care what anyone else thinks," Scott says honestly, face bright and open with the absolute sincerity he always has, "I don't care if they think we're annoying just because we're ridiculously cute and in love."

Isaac lets out a snort, turning his head as if to look away before Scott reaches up to place his fingers against his cheek, tilting his face back towards him.

"I mean it, Isaac. You make me happy. Why should I care what anyone else thinks when that's all that matters?" His eyebrows lift a little, a genuine question in his gaze that Isaac isn't quite sure how to reply to.

"You know what I think it is? I think it's the way they look at us and see two people that maybe might have never met if it weren't for the fact that we were both turned into werewolves." Isaac's gaze slips a little at that, the smallest of frowns beginning to form on his mouth. 

"But - but that's okay," Scott persists, "Because if I hadn't become a werewolf I wouldn't have a lot of things in my life. I wouldn't have Derek as my sometimes annoying older brother and mentor. I wouldn't have Peter... who's useful for being sneaky and stuff and breaking into places you shouldn't be. I wouldn't have Cora to make fun of me and make me laugh when I'm having a bad day. Or Lydia to help me study when I'm failing my ass through a class and take me shopping when we're running low on clothes." Isaac allows a chuckle at that. 

"I wouldn't even have Allison, after everything we've been through. And Stiles, too. We're closer than we ever were before. We're stronger and better, too." Their faces are so close by now that Isaac can breathe in the smell of Scott, like laundry detergent and deodorant and cats and something that is entirely just Scott.

"But most of all I wouldn't have  _you._ I wouldn't have everything that I have with you. I wouldn't take any of it back and I wouldn't give it up for the world, Isaac. I love you and I'm not afraid to shout it from all the rooftops in Beacon Hills if I feel like it and I mean it when I say  _I don't care_ who knows and who gets annoyed by it because it's _you,_ and no matter what I don't regret anything about you."

Isaac's breath catches in his throat, his throat clamping around the three little words he wants to say before the moment is gone but before he can even speak Scott's lips are on his and it's every bit as wonderful as every other kiss they've ever had and then some. It tastes like love, and warmth, and happiness –– like a thousand promises, each and every one Isaac knows Scott will keep –– soft and slow, tender like Scott wants to savour every part of it, and Isaac does, too. And then Scott's tongue slips past his lips, licking his way into his mouth, harder and rougher, unafraid, and  _burning,_ burning like light, sunlight glaring so bright it's hard to see past the sunspots but it fills him with a rush of adrenaline, fast and all-consuming, burning through him until it's chipping away at all those little doubts that like to accumulate now and then. The parts that whisper he's not good enough, he doesn't deserve Scott and everything he is, he doesn't deserve  _this._

Scott burns that all away with a swipe of his tongue across Isaac's lips because he kisses him like it's the surest thing he knows in the world, like he's drowning, gasping and Isaac is a breath of fresh air, like he's the only thing he'll ever want or need in the world and this --  _this_ is what happiness is.

When they pull apart, Scott's the first to make a sound, a noise that slips from his lips, half-surprised, half-defeated.

" _Ah, crap,_ " he mutters, "I think we really are as disgustingly cute as they all say we are."

"I don't care," Isaac breathes, "I love you. I don't care. They can think whatever the hell they want.  _I love you._ "

And when Scott smiles back at him, it's more than sunshine and more than the lightness shielding him from everything else in the world -- crooked in all the glory of his uneven jawline, and more puppylike than any human being has a right to be -- and

it's

perfect.

**Author's Note:**

> it's apparently impossible for me to write short oneshots. but ah well. i did love writing each and every single bit of this so i hope you guys like it too. just pure and unashamed fluff to tide you all over until 3B. don't lose hope! _we'll always have fanfiction_ (◡‿◡✿)
> 
> comments are my lifeblood ~
> 
> come say hi on [tumblr](http://www.notwithoutscisaac.tumblr.com). feel free to send me prompts!


End file.
